


seas between us broad have roared

by AceQueenKing



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Afterlife, Crossover, F/M, Gen, Post-Canon, Underworld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 15:11:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17869583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: 100 years after the end of the Great War, Diana begins to feel a pull toward those she left behind.The only problem is, how does one find the Underworld when all the Gods of Olympus are gone?





	seas between us broad have roared

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gammarad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gammarad/gifts).



> Apologies this treat is coming in so late! Happy chocolate boxing!

It is not an easy thing to find, the Underworld; her Amazon sisters did not cast their maps to such a place, for few of them ever fell to it. The humans attempted to map it, but everything came out wrong:  the Acheron bent left, when the map said it should go right; caves said to house the dead were long been effaced by time or mankind. Diana, in short, had no good ways to turn when it came to finding the underworld. 

And yet, despite knowing it was a fool’s errand, still she searched, heart troubled. It had started with dreams; dreams of her friends long gone, dreams she had not been bothered with in _years_. Diana, a goddess, knew they were more than figments of her imagination, and knew what they meant.  It was nearly the centennial, and without quite knowing how, she could sense why they had come to talk to her in her dreams: a door was closing between the living and the dead, and without quite understanding why, Diana _knew_ they wanted to see her.

It was an understandable wish, but not such an easy one to grant; all of them were long dead. She had gone to her mother first for advice, but her mother did not know any way to go down to the Underworld but the most permanent method, and Diana could not, in good conscience, choose such a route. Her mother also told her that the Gods were dead – there was no one watching the souls at the gate any longer, and as such, who could say where the dead wandered?

Diana did not like that option much, and choose not to think about it. It seemed too cruel that brave men and women who had given their lives to protect others may no longer have a home beyond.  Instead, Diana roamed the whole of Greece and Italy, searching for a door to see them. She had even gone so far as to go to Sicily in hopes that a badly scrawled sixth-century note on the island being a wedding gift from father Zeus had perhaps, somehow, left a door open to the Underworld. But she found nothing of that kind there.  It had, perhaps, been desperate well-wishing; her mother had told her all the Gods were dead, and no doubt the death-gods among them. Perhaps there were no longer souls below; perhaps death was now eternal, for them all. 

She gave up; went, if not quite home, to the only earthly home any of her Great War friends had, in the end. France was cold and rainy, but she took no notice, hands shoved in pockets as she went through the identical white gravestones, looking for her friends so long gone.

It was not until she found the first grave in Étaples that she began to feel the chill pervade the air. As she put flowers on Sameer's grave, she felt the rain abruptly stop. A shiver colder than any she had ever felt went up her spine and she turned, unable to stop shivering.

A middle-aged man stood, holding an umbrella over her. He was tall, but thin to the point of being emancipated; short silver hair graced a severe face, making him look older. The rain did not hit him, despite the fact that his umbrella was fully extended toward her, not himself. The rain simply seemed to go around him, bending to his will. In that, she knew what he was. 

" _Theoi_ ," she said, almost numb. Here? Now? She took in his suit, black as night; his face, all angles and coldness. There was no one else it could be but the Lord of the Dead, but he seemed far more life-like than her mother had taught her.

"I think you should call me _theíos_ instead, niece," he said, voice as deep and severe-sounding as his reputation suggested he would be. He held out a hand and she took it, unsurprised to find it cold. "Walk with me," he murmured; he took off with long strides without waiting for her reply. She supposed he was used to being obeyed.

After a moment, Diana took off in his footsteps, jogging to keep up as she tried to make sense of what was happening. Her mother had told her all gods but Ares were dead, yet here was one, walking before her. Had he somehow beaten back Ares before she had killed him for good? Or had her uncle been in league with him? Or worst of all, had he been a coward, hiding away as Ares struck down his brothers and sisters?

 "Your mother was mostly right; there are few of us left," he said quietly. “Three still live, present company included."

Diana winced; evidently, telepathy was a power the gods held, or had held, or currently held – well, that was powerful, but she supposed not anything worse than forcing someone to tell the truth, though at least she had the ability to _not_ use that ability. She’d just have to be careful what she thought from this point. Especially given the favor she wanted to ask.

"I would be a sorry judge if I did not hear the mortals’ thoughts," he said primly, and she could tell he was offended by her thoughts. He stopped in front of an open grave and closed his umbrella with a loud snap. Did he mean to do battle with her? She had killed one god; she could hope to kill another, though she dearly hoped it would not come to that.

"I'm not mortal," she said, coolly evaluating him. He shrugged, making a long and languid roll of his shoulders.

"I must judge all immortals, too, in the end," he said, reaching out and tapping her cheek. "Present company included. Now, child, look down. _All_ the way down, if you would."

She did a frown on her face. She did not see anything remarkable buried in the ground; only a muddy, unfilled grave. "I see nothing…"

His long hands grabbed her shoulders; his grip was surprisingly strong and she could not break it. He tossed her down into the cold of the grave and she put her hands out to break the fall, only to pass through the grave dirt. Then she was falling, free-falling through darkness; there was nothing but darkness on all sides and through she tried to scramble for purchase, she could grab nothing but smooth stone. She put her hands in front of her, hoping her bracelets would help cushion the blow.

And then, suddenly, there was dim light, and something caught her; she yelped as she was pulled suddenly upwards. She glanced up; a vine held her foot. Following the vine as best she could in the dark, she found a woman with an arm outstretched, standing in front of a chariot. In her other arm, she held an apple that one of the large chargers seemed quite interested in. Despite the horse pestering her, she smiled at Diana, and gently lowered her into the back of the chariot.

"Welcome," she said, then gave the apple to the charger, pressing a hasty kiss to its temple. "One second," she murmured, and then held her arms wide open— for what purpose, Diana could not guess.

"He doesn’t like the vines; they decay too quickly, on him," she said, and Diana froze, realizing the girl shared the other god’s powers. 

 _Three still live_ ; she supposed this one was the third. And given that she was using the power of plants in what had to be the underworld, it was not hard to guess who she was.

There was a loud boom, as if a door had been slammed shut, and then she caught sight of her uncle falling downwards, fluttering gently into his wife's waiting arms. She would not have thought that the woman could support his weight, but she did. Seemingly effortlessly, as he stayed held there for a moment; he pressed a slow kiss to her cheek and then she gently lowered him down. They took their seats at the front of the chariot, the young goddess taking the reins.

The young goddess turned back toward her, smiling with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"To think, this chariot holds all living immortals beyond Themyscira," she said as she cracked the reigns. Her husband's hand wound around the goddess' shoulder, and Diana wondered; why _were_ they living?

 "We are — and were —  no allies of Ares," her uncle said, stiffly, turning back to face her. The horses picked up speed, and Diana felt jostled as they took off, bounding fast through a dim and winding trail. She peeked out of the sides of the chariot, but saw only blackness. “Fortunately, when Ares decided he was willing to kill the family, we somehow escaped his notice. And we decided to remain so.”

"So you hid," Diana said; she did not bother to hide her thoughts of displeasure. Only cowards hid when there was a battle to be fought. 

"If we died, the world would have died with us, _mikrí adelfí.”_ The young looking goddess said; Diana raised an eyebrow – she _looked_ young, but could not be so much so, to call Diana her _little sister_. “After my mother was killed, someone had to attend to your farms and your rains and, well, someone had to receive all the souls, or they'd be stuck in the human world forever, slowly poisoning every living thing. We were fortunate to be able to do both from the third world." The girl's voice was matter of fact, as if she was talking about leaving behind a hat at a friend’s house and not the slow but near complete annihilation of her kind. "It...It wasn't easy, Diana. Do not judge us as cowards for doing what needed to be done to keep humanity alive. The others agreed with our plan…eventually."

"I am only glad Ares was pig-iron foolish enough to have struck at the others in the winter," her uncle said quietly; the girl leaned closer to him in response, linking her hands with his. Diana supposed some old stories were true; if Ares had come in summer, then the girl, presumably, would have died when her mother had. He turned his head back to her, nodding stiffly as if to confirm her thoughts.

“It was easier for us to bide our time, then. But that is ancient history now. He is dealt with, and we will merely have to...keep the worlds above and below going, I suppose. Our thanks for bringing our wayward nephew back to us." 

"It felt very good to put him down in Tartarus," the goddess said, grinning.  “We’ve got all the family working on him; sometimes, I think it is the only thing our father enjoys about living down here now.” Diana did not know whether to pity Ares or not, given her mother’s stories of the Gods; thinking of the lives lost, she decided she felt little need for mercy. He had been judged, after all. The thought of those lost reminded her of her purpose here, and she stood up straighter, wondering how best to ask for what she sought. 

"There is no need, Diana, we heard your thoughts. Have no worry; we are bringing you to them now." The woman shouted as she whipped around a corridor, going from almost total darkness to blinding light; to the left of the path lay a long river of fire. Diana heard a heavy shriek that reminded her too much of the Great War across the river, and she exhaled.

 “That is him, alright. As I said, father has been most appreciative of our allowing him to _talk_ to Ares.” The iron queen shrugged her shoulders. “A pity there is not the time to meet with father, also…perhaps you will return again? I mean, you _will_ return again, but—come back for more of a pleasure trip, shall we say. Please do come. You need only seek us, and we will appear for you.”

“Of course, _megáli aderfí_ ,” she said; the goddess almost radiated in response to being called her big sister, so brilliant was her smile.  Diana smiled; she did like the little goddess, though she was still not quite able to call her by her name, too many years of avoiding doing so to quite change now.

"I do hope you shall think of us by our names at some point,” the goddess murmured. “I know we have many but you are allowed to use them. That old human superstition has no bearing now. Especially since so many do not even think of us under the names you hold so fearsomely — our old titles did not hold the power they once did. It will be quicker for us to reach you if you think of us directly.”

“I….will try.” She bowed her head slightly. “…Persephone and…Hades.”

“See? Not that hard.  Anyway.” She cleared her throat, and the man next to her nodded. “Officially: We grant you this boon in thanks for your hard work. You have served faithfully. Good job!”

“And we ask only that you continue such service until, well...until we meet for the final time. My sister Hestia wishes me to tell you that she is proud to see such a fine woman bear her lasso, as well." He said. She supposed _using_ the lasso down here was probably out of the question.

“Doesn’t work on us, little one. And I’m afraid the shades are a bit too…incorporal.” He smiled, but there was mischief lurking in his eyes. The carriage thudded to a stop in front of a wide cavern. They both turned to look at her pointedly, but neither said anything. Diana took it as her cue to depart.

She nodded. Nervous butterflies blossomed in her belly; it had been so long since she’d seen them, and she did not know what to say, only that she had to see them.  "Thank you," she murmured, for one must always be polite. "Are there rules?"

"Of course there are rules," uncle said, smirking. He wasn’t known for being crafty for no  reason, she supposed.  "No eating or drinking, unless you’re staying. You take out what you bring in, which is to say, nothing. You have three hours; after that, we’ll send you home.”

She departed the chariot after that; she did not look back, hardening her hands into fists as she walked into the corridor. Like most of the others, it was dark, though there was a small light in the distance. She walked toward it, wondering what words she could possibly find to explain what she was doing here.

And then, suddenly, she saw what that light was — a campfire. Back to the last moment of peace she had shared with them, all those years ago. She bit her lip as she saw it suddenly clear: there they were, all four, sitting around a campfire, just like… Just as they had been, all those years ago, before the final offensive. Where they’d lost Steve, though it was the beginning of the end for most of them.

 It was Steve who spotted her first, standing and raising a flask. “Diana! Finally!”

“Hello,” she said, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. “I…Hello.” There were so many things she wanted to say: _thank you for your sacrifice_. _I miss you. I’m sorry you’re gone. How are you? What are you doing?_

Sameer came over to her, looking so much as he had in life; “ _Aspádzomai_ , Diana,” he purred and winked, obviously pleased as to his improving command of Greek. “I have been practicing, you see!”

“ _Khaíre_!” She shouted. She tried to pick Sameer upward, delighted, but her hands went through him as if he was air. She frowned.

“Ah, pardon,” Sameer shook his head. “Only the dead can touch the dead, I am afraid.”

She thought of when she’d last seen Sameer — one of the last gone in the second great war, his eyes vacant with a pistol in his hands as he stood up for Morroco one last time, fighting in the Allied push toward the end.

Charlie wandered over to her, shaking his head with a half-smile on his face; he looked better than he had when she had last seen him, in a rest home that was anything but. He’d been pale then, wan, haunted by ghosts that she couldn’t see; here, he was hale and, well, if not hearty, at peace. 

“Ay, Diana!” He smiled. “It’s been a long time, _cherie_.”

“Indeed,” she closed her eyes; the shades touch almost felt real with her eyes closed. “I have missed you all.”  
  
“Is that so?” Chief said; she looked up, tilting her head as she looked at him askance.  He looked different than the others, something a bit more quicksilver, a bit more powerful than the others.

Chief nodded and smiled, winking. 

" _Niitangio_ ," she said to him, wishing she could grasp his palm once more.  “I have come. Why did you call me?”

Steve curled his arms around hers in a dance she remembered, despite the nearly 100 years since the last time she’d been held in his arms. “Diana, we wanted to see you to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye…?”

“We’re going back to the great river,” Chief said; “to be reborn.”

“You were put in Asphodel?” Her hands clenched; she’d _have words_ with her aunt and uncle, oh yes — such great heroes who had given their lives in valor deserved more than that, far more.

“Nah, Elysium, lass,” Charlie said, a bittersweet smile on his face. “But I’m afraid it’s a bit boring there without ye.”

“And since you weren’t gonna be here for a long time, well…” Steve nodded toward the others. “We wanted one more night with our friend. Since next time we see you we might…” He swallowed a bit, his smile that had once seemed so confident when she was less experienced in the world now so obviously bluster. “Well, we might be different.”

“Then, I shall hope to meet you there, in a few years. All of you.” She smiled, though she knew the odds of them reuniting with her were few.  “I hope dearly well…” She felt an uncharacteristic lump in her throat. “I hope I will find you.”

“You will,” Sameer said with a wink and a smile. “Or we’ll find you, whichever comes first. There are only so many horizons, my friend.”

“Then I will look forward to crossing them together.” Diana knelt in front of the campfire, her friends’ shades gathered around her. “But for now, let us enjoy the time we have together.”

And so they did. The hours passed quickly, exchanging talk of their lives, or after-lives, as the case may be; there was nothing between them, and the hours passed all too quickly when her uncle and aunt reappeared.

“It’s time,” Hades said, slowly.

The goodbyes passed in a blur, and somehow, within a few moments, she was back by her relatives’ side, wandering back through the halls.

‘Would you like to watch them go?” Persephone murmured into her ear. “We can’t let them see you, but there are ….ways, of being present without being seen.”

“I’m not giving her the helmet, she already has Hestia’s whip—“ In the darkness, she could not see her aunt, but all but felt the withering look that passed by, directed toward her uncle.

 _“A loan,”_ Persephone hissed. Diana caught movement – a shrug? She was pretty sure it was a shrug.

“I thank you for the offer, but…” She shook her head. “As tempting as it is, I do not wish to change in any way their chances for a new life. If we are meant to meet again, we will.”

“You are a wise one,” her uncle said, nodding after a moment. “Very well, Diana. We will take care of them; have no fear.”

He put one hand on her shoulder, and her sister grabbed the other. “Until your next visit, sister. Call to us and we will answer.”

“The same, should you need me.” Diana closed her eyes; she felt a power that reminded her of nothing so much as her mother pass through her, and then she was back in the cemetery; the rain wetting her face.

She climbed out of the grave slowly, shivering in the cold and wet weather, but somehow, she felt lighter than she had in years. There was a weight that had fallen off of her back, and she was so much more ready to face the next adventure now. She did not look for the rest of the graves; instead, she walked back through the gates, heading onward.  

It was time to go home.


End file.
